“Exactly, Jackie. What an asshole. And what an asshole this guy is.” She pointed at the asshole in the tan jacket.

He seemed much taller than before. His flies spread out behind him, an angry, buzzing aura.

“You must choose,” he roared. “You must choose who will stay, or I will choose for you.”

“You’re not staying here,” she said to Jackie, ignoring him, “and Josh is not staying here.”

Jackie nodded. “You’re right. It’s not our fault. It’s not us should be solving these problems. It’s time for Troy to do it.”

“And Troy’s not staying here. It’s time for Troy to go home.”

“Damn right it is.”

“Stop talking and choose which child,” the man shouted. No one was listening.

“I met a group of him at the bar. Good a place to talk to him as any.”

“Then let’s go.” The woman in the window walked away, but Diane did not move. She had a sudden moment of doubt. What if she was wrong? What if she was making a mistake? Her reflection was gone and she still could not move. And then she felt Jackie take her hand.

“I’m with you,” Jackie said gently. “Let’s go.” She hooked her injured arm through Josh’s tentacular arm and led them both out the door and back up the hall.

The man in the tan jacket followed them into the hallway.

“Where are you going? Come back here at once.” The flies buzzed around him. None of the three looked back, and the buzzing grew faint as they pushed open the front door into the dusty night air.

“You must choose. You must choose,” said a distant voice, and then the door closed and it was silent once again.

48

“Troy,” Jackie shouted.

“Get out here right now, Troy,” Diane shouted.

The first Troy who emerged from the bar was the one with the shiner, bloomed now to violet. He looked dazed, possibly concussed.

Jackie held the door open and ushered them all out, helping with a pull on the sleeve or a shove on the shoulder in case any of them hesitated. Some were wobbly from the beer. Others strong and chipper and ready to drive home. Troy Walsh was prepared for all contingencies. Troy Walsh was confused about what was happening.

“Troy. Get out here. Come on.” Jackie herded them all outdoors.

Imagine a thirty-two-year-old man. Imagine a thirty-two-year-old man who is many men. They all look like the same man because they all are the same man, have always been the same man. Imagine a thirty-two-year-old man who could fix your car and file your taxes and mix you an intoxicating cocktail and paint your miniature collectibles.